recovery.

It's been awhile. I could attribute this to my poor health, but that's not really it. I just have honestly had nothing to write about.

I just got over swine flu and strep throat. Now a cough has set in. I can't decide if the term "festering conglomeration of germs" or "walking ailment," fits me better. Both will do. Oh well.

It's almost Thanksgiving. I don't like Thanksgiving. The food and family is good, but every year, it seems like something bad happens. I don't know how to describe this phenomenon, other than I wish it wouldn't occur. On the other hand, I'm am so excited for the days off of class it should be illegal.

School has been overwhelming as usual. My sleep deprivation is chronic, the dark circles under my eyes rival craters on the moon, and the work load just never seems to leave me alone. Despite this, college has so far been very fun.

I decided to indulge my inner preteen the other day, and attended the New Moon premiere the day it came out. Surprisingly, it was not terrible, but it certainly wasn't good. The half-naked, gorgeous men in it were welcome. However, the bus ride on the way back from the movie theatre was not. No weird homeless men this time, but it did take forever.

Math kills my soul. I think I'm going to start writing "answering this problem goes against my religion" to all the problems.

I really wish it would snow. Christmas only being a month away, I would welcome the white and fluffy precipitation. Christmas music needs to go away though for another week. It should start December first, not November first. That's ridiculous.

Anyway. I love the Christmas season. There's just something warm and fuzzy mingling in the air. Our dorm is decorated, and the giant trees and lights are a welcome site when wandering in from the cold outdoors. I hate buying gifts though, I'm terrible at it.

I apologize for the randomness of this post, but it's been awhile, and I can't exactly remember all that I want to say.

giant jawbreaker.

I have a sweet tooth, I am not afraid to admit that. Recently however, my taste buds have been oriented to a single goal. Conquering my $2.00 jawbreaker from Kilwin's.

It's messy, time consuming, and it gets me in trouble, but I love it anyways. Kind of like a boyfriend. If I had one of those at the moment. It also makes my tongue hurt. Har har har.

I need to get out of this writing slump.

For shizzle.

happy halloween.

Not much is new. I would have written earlier, had I had something to write about. But really, there isn't anything.

This weekend was really fun.

I think I have some sort of mega-writer's block, caused by the fact that I am now perpetually tired.

My sense of time is messed up. One in the morning is considered early, but I sorely miss when I went to bed at ten and got away with it with minimal repercussions.

Oh, here's something. I discovered something fantastically fun to do in my dorm room. I've taken a liking to jumping off my dresser onto my bed. I know, it sounds like something a five-year old would do, but c'mon.

In my defense, I was always denied a trampoline when I was younger. This is compensation.



Finally, I abandoned the tree project. It's mostly a computer/camera error, some of the pictures are missing and whatnot. But just as an fyi, 90% of the leaves are gone now, and the poor organism is depressing looking.

bus system.

Public transportation is relatively frightening, I've learned. My roommate and I took the bus today, twice, to get to Meijer and back. The way there was uneventful, but the way back was accompanied by a very well-articulated, presumably homeless man.

He spoke very coherently, but I couldn't figure out what he was speaking about. He jumped from ideas about creationism, to French democracy, to friendship, to homosexuality, all in about a five minute period. My roommate and I tried keeping up, but it eventually just became impossible.

He did say that one thing thing that seemed to implant itself in my brain, however. "The purpose of life is to create." I'm pretty sure he was talking about reproduction, but I took it differently.

Maybe that's why we are here. To create. To form friendships, relationships, secure financial positions, homes, and a niche in society. To generate new ideas that are capable of influencing others.

Or maybe not. Maybe we're just here because of biology. We evolved, we exist, we reproduce, we perpetuate, eventually we'll be replaced with a superior species. I would like to believe there is a higher reasoning, even if there is not.

We witnessed other peculiar people on the bus as well. A man with a classy, Marines doo rag was seated in front of me, and a pair of fluent Spanish speaking Mexicans were behind me, one of them rubbing his stomach for the entire ride, as if he had just ingested the most delicious meal ever. Simply, it was weird.

On a side note, Garden Salsa Sun Chips are amazing.

normal.

Saying today has been hectic would be a dramatic understatement. I've probably stopped moving around for a grand total of half an hour, between 8:00 this morning and now, 4:30 PM. I'm not even done for the day.

In short, here's my day: Wake up, vascular biology lab, mouse house, Dr. Bodary's office, anthropology lecture, twenty minutes for lunch, Italian, mouse lecture for vascular biology lab, anthropology discussion. Now I'm savoring my rare moment of peace by vegetating and watching videos of baby animals on youtube. Try it, it really sort of melts the stress away. "Fuzzy fuzzy cute cute," is a good place to start.

My roommate and I have been exchanging these for two days now. They're rather fantastic.

However, one decent thing about being completely booked all day, is I get to see some very peculiar things about campus. For example, today I saw a man whip out a violin under a tree and play "Don't Stop Believin'." It very possibly made my week. Another time, I saw a "living statue," and a few days before that, I witnessed a hula hoop contest with one participant wearing a chicken suit.

I sometimes wonder, though, what is definition of normal? These strange people may seem very odd to me, but do they simply find their peculiarities socially acceptable?

This brings me to another point. What is the definition of a normal person? I could describe myself as being abnormal, but I honestly couldn't tell you what I would be like if I were normal. Are stereotypes normal? Are people who love cats? Are people who work forty hours a week in an office? Are people who shop at Macy's?

Finally, everyone always encourages people to "be unique," and "be an individual that stands out." How are we supposed to know what kind of norm we're supposed to deviate from, if the entire world is made up of original people and nonconformists?

It's a daunting feeling. Establishing oneself in a society full of exceptional people with their own ideas, it makes you curious if your "abnormal" ideas are really all that abnormal. Or if anyone really cares, either way.

puzzle hypothesis.

I enjoy doing puzzles on random occasions. It's tedious and hardly satisfying, but it's still something that can provide a unique satisfaction. That's what she said.

But really. You could work at one for hours at a time, monotonously piecing together every small component, until finally, you've rearranged the big picture. You can take a step back and see what your work has all been for.

And then you throw it in the box again, so it can collect dust for a few more years.

So why do I like puzzles? Simply, because they're simple. They represent small victories. You work so long to achieve the end result, and when you do, you have a brilliant piece of art to look at for a day or two.


I guess the point I'm trying to lead to is, life is not like one big puzzle. It's about a million little ones. You accomplish one thing, get to bask in that happiness for a short period, and then you store it as a memory and throw it back in the box. Then you repeat the process. In short, it's a constant process. Finish one, move onto another. Or work on a few at the same time. Or rot in laziness and not put any pieces together for a week or two.

Like human goals, puzzles vary in difficulty. The tough goals, like getting into a good college, or succeeding at a long-term relationship, are 5000 piece puzzles. The easy ones are more like the 25 piece puzzles you can buy at the dollar store of Finding Nemo and Arthur, and would probably be something like learning how to make a grilled cheese sandwich or waking up on time. Additionally, it's easier to take pride in a giant puzzle than it is an itty bitty one a four year old could do.

Of course there are obstacles. When we lose just one piece, the puzzle becomes unfinish-able, and the goal becomes impossible to attain. When the angry family pet bumps the table and the puzzle crashes to the ground in a slow-motion avalanche, we must start over. When a piece breaks, we must take the time to fix it, so it fits in neatly.

Old, completed puzzles that are collecting dust are our memories. We either can give them to others, by telling them of such memories, or let them die when we do.

Damn. Now I really want to go find an old puzzle and do it.

In the grand scheme of things though, it probably wouldn't be a small victory I'd want to cherish. To my future grandchildren, I'd probably give them my dusty puzzles that are valiant, success stories. Or romantic, lovely ones.

If only one thing makes sense in this entire entry, I want it to be this. I want my figurative closet to be full of dusty puzzles. I want to do a lot, and I certainly don't want to forget any of it.

the right of way.

Well, it's been a few days. But honestly, there has been nothing of interest happening. I have a four day weekend, which is really nice, and I fudge a B+ on my math exam with the massive curve, but otherwise, diddly squat.

I'm currently at home. Being here mostly involves catching up on my DVRed TV shows, going shopping, and once again gaining the access to a car. The best part about being here though, is being around the people that I know care about me. It's a pleasant feeling. I get to bask in this for approximately two more days, which I'm beginning to realize, is fantastic.

I almost ran over a person on a bike today. Through no fault of my own. I was driving down the street and they decided they would like to also be in the road. But, after slamming on my brakes and swerving out of the way, we both managed to escape the situation unscathed. My heart was racing, but otherwise, no harm done.

But really, who does he think he is? I was technically on the road first, and he didn't even acknowledge when I blared my horn at him. He nonchalantly stared at me as I passed him. Yeah, you're really awesome mysterious biker. Invest in a helmet, based on my encounter with you, you'll need it.

Finally, Paranormal Activity scared the living daylights out of me. I don't even know how to elaborate on that.